


Caffè Mocha & Ristretto

by QueenofStarlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-06 06:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofStarlight/pseuds/QueenofStarlight
Summary: Lance loves his job.Scratch that, Lancereallyloves his job. Just saying he loves it isn't enough, and even saying hereallyloves it isn't enough either, honestly. There's simply too many reasons to love working at Mouse Circus Coffee for him to accurately describe exactlywhyhe loves it, though that may also be because there simply isn't justonereason why he loves it.Needless to say, Lance loves his job.T for Strong Language





	1. For All That's To Come...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shoubiochan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoubiochan/gifts).



> Shoutout to my Secret Santa Giftee, Shouberry, as this fic is for you, and I'm very much proud of it! I hope you love it. Shoutout to Cas, who ran the SS event- all your hard work is very much appreciated and I wish I could do more to thank you for it. This event has helped me grow as a writer and you are largely to thank for that. And shoutout to everyone in the KlKl server who supported me along the way!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to a.) [Penny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_Candy), who gave me the inspiration to start the fic; b.) [Arti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artibek/pseuds/Artibek), who helped me with all the coffee knowledge; c.) [Ellie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vallraiene), [Mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameswlwbarnes), and [Reese](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ciitadel), who betaed and motivated me with their compliments; and d.) [Alle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A11e_B00klover/pseuds/A11e_B00klover), who gave me ideas when I was caught in a tight spot. You've made this fic possible!!

Lance loves his job.

Scratch that, Lance  _ really _ loves his job. Just saying he loves it isn't enough, and even saying he  _ really _ loves it isn't enough either, honestly. There's simply too many reasons to love working at Mouse Circus Coffee for him to accurately describe exactly  _ why _ he loves it, though that may also be because there simply isn't just  _ one _ reason why he loves it.

Needless to say, Lance loves his job.

Mouse Circus Coffee is a quaint cafe that perhaps should have had more thought put into its name, because it serves much more than just coffee. It's a cafe, but so incredibly unique; one could treat it like a Starbucks: come in, order your preferred drink and odd pastry, and leave. Or, one could treat it like a small restaurant or diner: find an empty seat, peruse the menu until a server comes to accomodate you, enjoy your chosen meal, and leave an hour later with a tip stuck in the spiral of the little metal stand that holds the special brochure. 

This uniqueness is one of the things that brought Lance to Mouse Circus Coffee in the first place (though the fact that his college roommate works there was a large part of the motivation to visit; as if the offer of decent coffee within walking distance of his college campus wasn't motivation enough).

However, there are so many other things that led him to wanting to stay. Like how the cushions on the dusted rose armchairs are shaped like mice, and that the only lights that are ever on in the cafe are fairy lights hung on every wall, and how the regulars are the sweetest, most good-natured of people despite the fact that most of them survive on just caffeine alone.

When Lance first inquired about getting a job at Mouse Circus Coffee, Hunk - his relatively new college roommate and self-proclaimed best friend - had been positively ecstatic. Lance sometimes wonders if perhaps his chances of actually getting the job would have been lower had he not befriended the establishment's beloved chef, but then he thinks no way, because he knows Allura would not have hired him at all had she not seen promise in him, whether he was friends with her chef or not.

Allura Altea, the owner of Mouse Circus Coffee and the reason for its mouse theme, is the kind of person who never fails to impress Lance in one way or another. She inherited the cafe when her parents unfortunately passed away, and has done such a stellar job of maintaining the place that Lance dares to say Mouse Circus Coffee is the only cafe in the city he'd ever want to frequent, partly because he knows he'll never be able to settle for any other chain's product now that he's sampled perfection.

Allura, with her British accent and perfectly styled curls and wonderful management skills, had hardly interviewed Lance at all before deciding he was fit to be an employee in her cafe. She'd had him make a simple order after showing him the basics of the equipment, and when the result was deemed satisfactory, she'd handed him a t-shirt the same color as the armchairs with mouse-shaped cushions on them and said, “Welcome to the circus.”

Lance is actually quite proud of how quickly he's melded himself to the clockwork of Mouse Circus Coffee. It's hardly been a week since he first started working each afternoon, yet he feels like he knows all his coworkers and customers better than anyone else in his life who isn't related to him by blood.

“One Americano with two extra shots of espresso and extra cream, and two croissants with raspberry filling. Will that be all for you today?”

“Ah, I'd like to get some coffee art, in my Americano. A cat, perhaps?”

Lance gives the older woman a sympathetic smile, sad in knowing he'll have to turn her down when there's such an excited sparkle in her eyes. “I'm sorry, but the employee who does the coffee art is actually away for the week. None of the other employees know how to do it.”

“I see. That's alright, though I can't deny I'm a little disappointed.”

“You're not the first person to say that. I've only been working here for a week and I've had someone ask me for coffee art at least five times every day.”

“Well, it  _ is _ the reason I chose to come here. I've heard it's quite famous.”

“Yeah, our coffee art has gotten quite popular. I hope you like it here enough to come back though, our coffee artist will probably be here next time you come in. Anyway, will that be all for today?"

The woman nods, and Lance gives her another smile before hurrying off to fulfill her order. He lets out an exasperated sigh. The number of times people have asked for coffee art is unreal, and he hates having to turn them all down when every single person who's asked has had the same sparkle in their eyes as this woman did.

Lance has only heard stories about the famed Coffee Art Guy. He doesn't know his name, because despite how many times he's heard about the guy from his coworkers, they never seem to slip his name out, and Lance hasn't asked for it. He doesn't know why they haven't said his name; it could be some secret, the never-reveal-coffee-art-guy’s identity pact for all he knows.

After all, Lance has only been working at Mouse Circus Coffee for a week, and while he likes to think he knows his coworkers pretty well by now, the simple truth is that he really doesn't.

(With the exception of Hunk, that is. But that's only because they live together, and there's a certain kind of intimacy that comes with living together which makes a difference in a relationship, no matter how long you've actually known each other.)

Lance shuffles past their resident coffee genius, Pidge, when he gets behind the counter, grabbing a cup off the stack and handing it to her as he passes, opting to move a little quicker when he catches sight of the crease in her brow and the long line of customers in the to-go queue.

Coran is working the register while Pidge churns out orders, and Lance would suggest Coran help her if he didn't know just how disastrous that would actually be. There's a very good reason why Coran isn't allowed to touch any edible product in the cafe, and the memory of how the cappuccino machine had exploded into an inorganic black mess the third day of working here makes Lance shudder as he makes his way to the pastry display. 

Lance pops two of Hunk’s prized raspberry-filled croissants in the toaster oven and moves to Pidge's side, waiting for her to finish her current order and shuffle out of the way before he starts on his own. They twirl around each other like some sort of effortless dance fueled purely by the instinct not to run into each other, which would result in the spilling of scalding hot beverages and an excessive amount of uncouth swearing that would likely earn them a lecture from Hunk and Allura on professionalism.

“Hey Lance, can you pass me the- thanks.” Pidge doesn't get to finish her question before a can of whipped cream is in her hands. Lance doesn't have to say anything at all before she's sliding the nozzle for hot cream over into his waiting cup. He hands her the chocolate shavings, and she opens the toaster oven that is now beeping incessantly so he can pull out the two croissants and add them to his tray alongside the Americano (that is, unfortunately, very much free of coffee art).

Lance does a spin to keep his tray from bumping Pidge and brings the contents of it to the old woman, who thanks him politely, and proceeds to take a long drink of her coffee that would make anyone else flinch at the temperature of it. Lance goes off to serve the next table, where he is once again forced to explain why they can't actually give anyone coffee art until the weekend, when Coffee Art Guy is supposed to return.

  
  
  
  


Lance, despite having only worked at Mouse Circus Coffee for a week - exactly a week as of today, in fact - knows the names of all the regulars who visit during his afternoon shifts, and as of today, he's proud to say that he has officially memorized all of their orders, so long as none of them change it suddenly. He's always been good at memorizing things, as much as he dislikes constant repetition and routine, which is a skill that he praises when three regulars in a row come up in the to-go queue during the evening rush. (Why a cafe known specifically for good coffee and coffee art is so busy at 5 PM in the evening, Lance may never understand.)

The whole cafe is working hard to keep up with the crowd. Lance is manning the register, helping Hunk and Pidge churn out drinks like an industrial machine endlessly creating product, Allura and Coran are waiting on tables and delivering the orders that he, Hunk, and Pidge make to keep the wait line at the end of the counter from blocking the way.

There's no one to stay in the kitchen, since Hunk is needed out front and Allura is the only other person on shift who's allowed into the sacred temple, and chaos ensues whenever one of them has to go get more of whatever item they're out of and leaves the rest of the staff one member down for however many minutes it takes to locate said item. 

It's busy, and they're all working hard, and everyone is relieved when the clock hits 5:30 and the crowd starts to thin, until it's only the exasperated college students who come in needing caffeine to get them through their all-night cram sessions.

“Damn, I'm impressed. You memorized the names and orders of all our afternoon regulars?” Pidge asks during a free moment. 

Everyone has gone back to their normal stations now that the rush is over; Hunk retreating into the kitchen to test out a new cookie recipe, Coran and Allura to the back office, presumably to work out the cafe’s bills. The only customers in the cafe right now have already been  served and are simply enjoying their drinks in comfort, and all the tables and floors are clean, so Lance and Pidge are taking the moment of peace to chat.

“Yeah,” Lance answers. “I've always been good at memorizing things. It's the only reason I passed my high school exams, to be honest.”

Pidge nods in both sympathy and understanding and leans back against the counter, sipping her flat white espresso while Lance works on refilling their sprinkles containers, somehow managing not to spill anything.

“Pidge, ask me how many times I was asked if the Coffee Art Guy is back yet today.”

“No.” Pidge says immediately.

_ “Ask me _ .”

“ _ No _ .”

“Ask me. Please.”

“How many times were you asked if the Coffee Art Guy is back yet today, Lance?” Pidge says, more as a statement than an actual question.

“Seven times.  _ Seven times _ , Pidge!” Lance exclaims, throwing his hands in the air indignantly, pouting when Pidge just laughs at him. “Just how famous is this guy, anyway?”

“I dunno, people just seem to really enjoy the fact that he makes cute cat faces in cream. To be honest, I doubt he even realizes that people come here specifically to buy coffee art.”

“Will I ever get to know anything about him other than the fact that he draws cats in coffee cream and has seven people a day coming in asking for him?” 

Pidge takes another sip of her drink and sets it on the counter behind her, shifting to get more comfortable. “Well, he's Allura’s brother-in-law, but he was an employee here before she married his brother.” She pauses to think. “He drives a motor scooter. A red one.”

“That's it? C’mon Pidge, it's like he's an enigma!”

“What the hell else do you want me to tell you?”

“A name, maybe? What he looks like??”

“Oh, his name’s-”

The jingle of the bells above the door of the cafe interrupts Pidge before she can finish, and she and Lance turn toward the sound out of habit to greet the new arrival, and Lance is met with an incredibly  _ frustratingly _ handsome man.

Lance has always thrived off of good fashion and style, and this guy pisses him off in that department, with his cherry red track pants and a hoodie with black and white diagonal stripes, and a fucking  _ mullet _ that covers his neck and most of his face and looks like it hasn't been maintained in  _ months _ . And what's worse, Lance thinks, is that despite all the glaringly bad choices this particular man has made concerning his appearance, he still manages to pull it off and look stunningly attractive.

“Keith!” 

Lance watches as Pidge hurries around to pounce on Mullet Man (Keith, apparently), latching on like a koala clinging to its mother. Mullet Man scrambles to wrap his arms around her and regain his balance to keep them both from falling, and Lance puts down the sprinkles container he's half-finished filling to watch them with piqued interest, one eyebrow raising when Pidge smiles a smile he's never seen on her before.

Lance is still standing there, just watching, when Allura bursts through the swinging doors that separate the cafe from the back halls, one of the doors banging loudly on the wall behind it with the force of her entrance and making Lance (and the few customers remaining in the cafe) flinch at the noise.

There's a look of pure longing on her face as she looks straight at Mullet Man and asks- no,  _ demands _ \- “Where is he?”

Mullet Man just points to the door of the cafe, and the surprise of the evening soars to new heights as Allura fucking  _ vaults _ over over the counter and sprints out the door without another word. Neither Mullet Man nor Pidge seem fazed by Allura’s previous display, and when Pidge is back on the ground again, they're both staring at Mullet Man's phone and smirking ominously.

The swinging doors push open again (noticeably softer this time) and Hunk comes out, followed by Coran, who immediately makes his way over to where Allura is now being carried bridal-style into the cafe by a very muscular man whose face can't actually be seen because Allura is too busy kissing it and blocking the view. Lance turns to Hunk and gestures with both hands at… well, all of it.

Hunk nods and smiles. “The guy carrying Allura is her husband Shiro, if that's not obvious enough. And the guy Pidge is talking to,” Hunk pauses, and Lance has a feeling it's for effect. “...that's Keith. He's the Coffee Art Guy.”

  
  
  
  


Lance, having heard spectacular stories about the mysterious Coffee Art Guy who loved motorcycles and was a black belt in martial arts and worked out so much he had to be reminded to take care of himself, had not expected said Coffee Art Guy to look… well, like how Keith Kogane looked. If anything, he'd expected someone more like Keith's brother, Shiro. Not Keith himself.

Once Allura had returned to the world from her reunion with her husband, she'd hugged Keith and they'd spoken briefly in hushed voices, and then she'd gone about introducing her family to Lance, who had yet to meet them.

Introductions were an odd affair. Shiro was kind, polite, and seemed like a genuinely good guy- exactly the kind of guy he'd expect Allura to marry. Keith, however, was far more closed off and awkward, even bordering on hostile. He obviously disliked the fact that a new face had joined the cafe while he was gone, and Lance doesn't know if it was attributed to the long drive he'd just been on, or if Keith just  _ really _ doesn’t like him.

The day after Shiro and Keith returned, Coran was taken off the cafe staff schedule and Keith had taken his place. 

The first thing Lance notices about Keith as an employee is that all the stories he's been told about the guy are true. Keith is an  _ amazing _ artist. Lance sees the ridiculously adorable cartoon mice drawn on the chalkboard menu outside, sees a similar mouse in the coffee cup of a guy he passes on his way in. It's  _ good _ , and Lance wonders how Keith does it.

When a lull in afternoon business comes and neither of them have orders to fill, Lance goes up to Keith with a smile and asks to learn how to make coffee art.

“No.” Keith says immediately.

Lance blanks, a little from the speed of the response and a little from Keith's deadpan tone. “What.”

“No, I don't want to teach you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm not a good teacher.” Keith grounds out, pulling a full cup off the rack of the cappuccino machine and walking past Lance to stand in the doorway to the back, calling for Hunk to come get his drink. Allura shuffles out past Keith and looks pointedly at the both of them, obviously having overheard their brief conversation.

“I think it would be a good idea for you to teach Lance coffee art, Keith.” She says as she sets about making her own usual drink.

Keith looks at her as if he's been betrayed, and Lance sinks into himself a little.

“Why?” Keith questions.

“Well, you are the only one who knows how to make coffee art. It will be good for someone else to learn so you do not have to do all of it on your own during rush hours.”

There's a long moment of silence where Allura and Keith are just looking at each other, both with a stubborn glint in their eyes. But then, Keith sighs, glancing at Lance with an unreadable expression, and nods.

“Fine.”

Allura beams and ruffles Keith's hair. “Wonderful! You have finished cleaning, so go ahead and start now. You can pause the lessons for a moment if you get a customer.” She says, winking at Lance before grabbing her cup of hot espresso and disappearing into the back.

Keith turns to Lance and frowns, but goes about grabbing new cups and cream and the little toothpicks Lance sees him use. Lance wordlessly offers his half-drank caffe mocha as their starting grounds.

“Alright.” Keith says, reluctance dripping from his tone. “Let me show you.”

  
  
  
  


Lance has decided that he definitely does  _ not _ like Keith.

Another week and a half has passed since Allura convinced Keith to teach Lance how to make coffee art, and there are both very good and very bad things that have come from Keith teaching Lance how to make coffee art.

The very good thing is that Lance is a  _ natural _ at it. He may not be able to make detailed cats like Keith can, but his flowers and hearts and geometric designs are pretty damn good. In his mind, at least. Which brings him to the very bad thing about having  _ Keith Kogane _ as a teacher.

Keith refuses to praise. When Lance does something right, there's no “good job” or even a smile to say he's done something well. And that in itself wouldn't really be a big deal if it weren't for the completely dismissive way that Keith glances at his piece, nods vacantly, and goes back to whatever he was doing before without a hint of recognition.

Lance is pissed, to say the least. 

He almost regrets ever having said Keith was attractive the first night he saw the guy, (almost, because as much as Keith is an asshole, he really isn't unattractive, and Lance isn't one to lie about that) and he can't help but think that Keith has always hated him, ever since that first night when he looked so absolutely offended that his sister-in-law would hire someone new in her cafe.

Today, they're in the middle of the evening rush, and Keith is hurrying to complete the tiny cat drawings that have been requested. Lance finishes ringing up the customers in line and goes about making their drinks.

There is exactly one customer who asked for a flower in their drink instead of the fourteen who asked for cats or dinosaurs (Lance hadn't even known Keith could draw dinosaurs until someone asked for one), and when Lance pauses to glance over at Keith, he finds the guy standing there, staring down at an absolutely horrendous cream flower.

Keith, Lance has learned, is a perfectionist. Much like Allura, he won't serve an order if it's even slightly off of what was requested, and Lance watches as Keith dumps out the coffee with a frustrated click of his tongue and starts again.

Lance is in the middle of making a complicated drink when someone new comes up in the line. He feels Keith's eyes on him, waiting to see if he'll go to help them. He feels Keith shove by to take their order, and when Lance finishes and serves the drink he'd been working on, he takes over remaking the drink Keith had dumped out and steals the opportunity to draw a perfect flower in the caramel on top.

After he's handed the drink over to its owner and gotten a happy smile in return, he turns to catch Keith staring - no,  _ glaring _ , actually  _ glaring _ \- at him. Keith says nothing, just shoves past him again and takes his place at the end of the counter to work on the next order of art.

Lance is pissed. 

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks when the rush has subsided and most of the customers have left.

Keith looks at him with a confused scowl. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Oh, you know, just the fact that you hate me when I've done absolutely nothing to deserve it!”

“What are you talking about?! I don't hate you. Why would you even think that?”

“You looked offended that I was ever born when we first met! You had to be forced to teach me how to do coffee art, and then you don't even care when I do it right! You look at me as if I don't even exist, as if I'm just some customer you'll never have to see again, and you probably wish that were the truth!”

Lance pauses his ramble, fuming, face hot and probably red. Thankfully, he hadn't been speaking loud enough to attract any unwanted attention. Keith, however, is staring at him, and his expression is so full of emotions so close to  _ guilt _ that Lance feels the anger flooding out of him even as he wills it to stay. 

(He doesn't apologize for his outburst though. Keith has still been an asshole, and Lance still wants to know why.)

“I do my best with the coffee art. I try really hard, and you look at it as if you don't even care.” He continues. “Am I so terrible at it that you don't even want to acknowledge I'm doing it at all?”

Keith seems to snap to attention then, his eyes blowing wide as he turns to fully face Lance.

“You're not bad at it! You're actually really good at it! It's just…”

“It's just what?” Lance pushes.

“It's just… coffee art has always been my thing. I've never been good at talking to people like you and Allura or good at making coffee like Pidge or baking like Hunk or management like Coran. I'm good at art. That's it. It's the only thing I can do that no one else can, the only thing that's really  _ my _ thing.”

Keith stops to breathe, and stares at the slate tiles of the floor. “I didn't want to teach you because then it wouldn't be  _ my _ thing anymore. And you picked it up so quickly too. It took me  _ ages _ to find the patience to draw so much as a circle. I was… jealous. And I felt bad about being jealous because you're a really nice and sweet person and you don't deserve it…”

Lance forces himself not to smile at the way the tips of Keith's ears turn red with the compliment, and he leans against the counter, unfurling a bit in the hopes of looking a little less like he's still angry.

“You don't have to feel bad for thinking that way. I just wish you could've told me before I assumed you hated me.” He says.

“Sorry about that.” 

“This probably isn't what you want to hear, but you know, it really isn't the coffee art that makes you special. It's more the things like how you take your coffee, that Hunk lets you into the kitchen, the fact you drive a red Vespa to work. And how you manage to make a  _ mullet _ of all things look halfway decent.”

Lance smiles when Keith meets his gaze. “Don't put so much emphasis on being the Coffee Art Guy. You being Keith is way more important.”

“...thank you, Lance.” Keith says, his smile small but real. “I think I get it.”

“Anytime.” Lance beams. “And besides, I still can't do cats or dinosaurs. And I know for a fact you can't do flowers for shit. So you can do the cats and dinosaurs, and I'll do the flowers. Deal?”

Keith chuckles (actually  _ chuckles _ , and no, it does  _ not _ make Lance's stomach do flips).

“Deal.”


	2. ...And All That's Ever Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to a.) [Moon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlovingvampire), [Viv](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianNeophyte), and [Cliche](http://fujoshi-neko.tumblr.com/), who all helped me figure out how Lance and Keith flirt; and b.) [Alle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A11e_B00klover/pseuds/A11e_B00klover), who wrote a good chunk of the aquarium date scene themself. They definitely helped give me the inspiration (and motivation) to actually finish chapter two.

Over the last couple of weeks, Keith has started to notice Lance, and his noticing Lance has brought a lot of feelings Keith doesn't know how to understand.

In reality, he's always noticed Lance. You can't work alongside someone five days a week and  _ not _ notice them. But now, Keith realizes that while he's always noticed Lance, he's never  _ noticed _ Lance. As in, he's never paid enough attention to the guy to actually learn anything about him besides the fact that he's a genuinely nice person.

It's been almost a month since Lance confronted Keith and their awkward start became...less awkward. And over the course of that almost-month, Keith has noticed many things about Lance.

He notices the way Lance is is constantly shifting his weight from one leg to the other, as if he has to remind himself not to lean too much to one side. He notices how Lance always draws little flowers on the to-go cups of his customers, how he draws waves or swirls or smiley faces if the line is short and he has the time.

He notices how Lance is always smiling, and how his smiles are always genuine- never the Customer Service Smile bullshit he sees Allura pull when she's dead tired, sees Pidge pull whenever she works the register because she's  _ always _ dead tired, knows he himself pulls whenever a customer talks to him because he's awkward and doesn't know how to smile genuinely at someone he doesn't know.

Lance smiles at everyone genuinely, and every smile is different, if only slightly.

The smile he gives their regulars is filled with recognition, a mirth you can only show to someone you know and understand. The smile he gives new customers is full of inquiry, the slightest hint of excitement at whatever an unfamiliar face can bring. The smile he gives Hunk and Pidge and Coran is playful and wide, stretching from ear to ear, and almost always accompanied by laughter. The smile he gives Allura and Shiro is calm, gentle, showcasing the deep respect he has for both of them.

And the smile he gives Keith....well, Keith doesn't know how to describe that. It's too full of too many emotions that require too many words, and that smile always makes Keith's chest tighten, which confuses him more than anything else.

(It does  _ not _ make his stomach do flips, and it does  _ not _ make his chest swell. It's just confusing.)

  
  
  
  


The first time Keith feels the weird ache in his stomach that will quickly become familiar is on a relatively normal day at work. Relatively normal being that everything is the same as it always is, aside from the fact that Keith experiences the weird stomach ache that he knows has nothing to do with the slightly questionable leftover Chinese food he ate for lunch.

He’s in the middle of filling a cup full of whipped cream to satisfy one customer’s odd order, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches Lance at the register, smirking at a blonde girl with eyes just as bright violet as Keith’s own. Lance says something quietly to her as he writes her order on a cup, and Keith can hear the girl giggling even though he’s at the opposite end of the counter. Keith huffs, and suddenly the whipped cream is overflowing, and he has to scramble for a paper towel to clean the excess off the side of the cup before handing it off to its owner.

There’s an ache in Keith’s stomach, and he risks one more glance over at the register - one he immediately regrets when he catches Lance smirking down at the receipt he holds in his hands: a receipt with ten numbers scrawled across it.

Keith takes over the register at Lance’s request, and watches him go speed through the drink’s preparation, the ache in his stomach only growing more intense at the dopey smile on Lance’s face. The customer in line coughs to grab Keith’s attention and he apologizes politely, taking her order and placing it aside for Lance to handle once he’s finished, continuing on with the rest of the line and then helping to complete the rest of the orders when the line is gone.

The ache in Keith’s stomach doesn’t fully go away until the blonde girl has left, and even then it lingers in the back of his mind. What the fuck kind of ache comes from seeing your coworker flirt? Keith blames it on his own aversion to romance and goes about the rest of the day.

He gets that same ache in his stomach exactly three more times in the following two weeks - once when he arrives to find Lance standing outside twirling a girl in the rain (he later learns the girl is Lance’s sister, and he debates the accuracy of the weird stomach ache), once when he catches Lance giving out a complimentary pastry to a girl with dark curls (and again he debates the weird ache when he learns that girl is Shay, Hunk’s girlfriend), and once when Lance brags continuously during their shift about the date he has later that night with a girl named Nyma.

He’s robbed and abandoned during the date, and while Keith laughs at the ridiculousness of it, there’s a different ache from how truly disappointed and betrayed Lance looks the next day.

In the week after the incident with Nyma, Keith notices that Lance no longer flirts with customers.

  
  
  
  


Time passes, and Keith doesn’t feel the ache again. Instead, his stomach does odd twists that always seem to coincide with a heating of his face and trembling of his hands, and Keith starts to realize that Lance really does do something strange to his insides whenever he does...well,  _ anything _ .

When Lance smiles at something someone says; when Lance makes a terrible joke or pun that has Keith, Pidge, and Allura collectively rolling their eyes; when Lance does that low hum after taking a drink of his usual caffè mocha that signifies he’s proud of that particular drink. Keith doesn’t know why his insides churn, he just knows it happens because of Lance, and that most times it  _ does _ happen, he ends up turning bright red and has to look away before Lance catches him watching.

It’s been exactly a month since the weird feelings began (not that Keith’s been keeping track, of course, it’s not like he thinks he might be slowly dying or anything) when he finally decides to ask someone if they know what the fuck is going on with his internal organs.

“Do you think I should go and see a doctor if my insides feel weird sometimes?” He asks Allura one night when they’re sitting on the couch together, waiting for Shiro to finish his shower so they can start their movie.

Allura tears her gaze from the magazine she’s reading and looks at him, one eyebrow raised. “What exactly do you mean by your insides feeling weird  _ sometimes _ ?”

“Well, sometimes when I’m at work my stomach will do this weird twist, and it doesn’t really hurt or anything, but it feels really  _ strange _ and it makes my hands shake and my face get really hot and sometimes I feel kinda dizzy or just...out of it. But it doesn’t happen always. Just sometimes.” Keith explains, not quite knowing how else to describe it.

“When do you get this feeling? Do you think it happens because of anything in particular?”

“Uh,” Keith pauses. “Because of Lance.”

“Because of Lance?”

“Yeah. When he smiles, or laughs, or leans just right against the counter, or does that thing where he moves from foot to foot like he can’t decide how he wants to stand, or when he sticks his tongue out while he’s doing coffee art, or- why are you looking at me like that?”

Allura’s eyes are on him, and her entire face is turned up into a smirk Keith is immediately suspicious of. When he shoots her a look of confusion, she doubles over laughing, eyes pinched together and one hand covering her mouth as if she were trying - and obviously failing - to pretend she isn’t laughing at him. Keith frowns and twiddles his thumbs in his lap. 

“Oh my goodness, Keith!” Allura says after about three minutes have passed. Her laughter slows to a few short chuckles, and she wipes a tear from her eyes. “You like Lance.”

“Well…yeah, I guess so. I don’t hate him. He’s a nice guy.”

“No, Keith. You  _ like _ Lance. You have fallen in love with him, or have at least started to.”

Keith doesn’t say anything, simply letting his sister-in-law’s words sink in. He likes Lance. He’s in love with Lance. The feelings in his stomach are because everything Lance does makes him weak in the knees- suddenly, it all makes sense. He remembers when Shiro had first met Allura and would come home every day after class complaining about the same symptoms. Of course, back then they’d had their mother to explain it all. Keith regrets not having listened. 

He feels his face heating up, and Allura is laughing again, this time not bothering to try and hide it. She pats Keith on the back and wipes a few more tears from her face, leaning over to hug Keith. 

“Oh boy, I cannot believe you did not realize! I thought you would have known how one falls in love by now, being as much of an adult as you are!” She teases. 

“Yeah, well, I guess I’ve just never fallen in love with anyone before, so how could I know?”

“How did you not remember any of this from when Shiro and I first met? He has told me of how awkward he was when we were still just classmates who never spoke, so surely you saw all of that from an insider’s perspective.” 

“I kind of avoided Shiro when he first met you because he would just sit and ramble about you for hours. It got pretty boring after like, the first ten minutes.”

Allura giggles at that, and there’s the sound of a door opening from upstairs. Keith panics, turning to Allura with frantic eyes and tugging at her sleeve. “Don’t tell Shiro, please! He’ll just try to give me advice on dating and I really don’t want to get love advice from someone who had to be tricked into asking his first girlfriend out because he wouldn’t do it himself.” 

“You are asking me to hide something so vitally important to your wellbeing from my husband, your brother? How on Earth could I betray him like that?” Allura says, leveling Keith with a serious expression.

Keith glares at her, and she simply smirks. 

“I’ll work the night shift all week.”

“Deal.”

Shiro comes in only a moment later and movie night begins, but Keith finds himself unable to concentrate on the movie at all. He’s too preoccupied with the evening’s revelations.

Who would’ve thought that he’d fall for Lance McClain, of all the beautiful people in the world?

  
  
  
  


After that night, Keith notices Lance even more. 

He’s constantly aware of Lance’s presence near him, constantly aware of exactly how much distance is in between them and exactly how far Keith would have to lean in order for them to be touching. 

It gets especially bad when the two of them are leaned in close to use the same machine and their sides are pressed together, their faces so close that Keith knows he’d only have to turn his head and lean a couple inches in order for their lips to meet. 

The first time that happens, he ends up over filling his cup and burning a good piece of his arm, and he has to spend the next hour manning the register with burn cream smeared across his wrist and the back of his hand.

Nothing changes between him and Lance- not really. Of course, Keith finds himself a lot more awkward around the guy, not quite knowing what to say, but he’s never been super great at that, so he’s sure it’s not much of a noticeable change. If Lance notices, he doesn’t say anything. 

Nothing changes, at least, until the night everything is revealed completely not-accidentally by his and Lance’s no-good friends after a particularly busy Halloween.

Keith has always loved Halloween. He grew up pleading for Shiro’s help making costumes of a different cryptid every year. And now, even as an adult, he still loves Halloween, though he’s grown up enough to make his own costumes. 

Allura, who decidedly does not celebrate Halloween but appreciates other people’s love for the holiday, lets Keith, Pidge, and Matt (all of them avid Halloween lovers) decorate the cafe in whatever way they see fit, which this year includes just a  _ bit _ too much fake blood that they almost can’t get off the windows the next morning.

They all dress up in costumes Halloween day, even Allura and Shiro, who truly couldn’t care less about a holiday to do with dead things coming to life. Keith is Mothman, and he’s incredibly proud of his costume, made of black feathers from Party City superglued onto a pair of leggings and a turtleneck. Shiro wears nothing but a black lion onesie he bought years ago that really doesn’t even fit him anymore, and all Allura puts into her vampire costume is a pair of fake plastic fangs that have her talking in a lisp all day. Hunk is Cooking Mama. Pidge is Einstein. Coran is Sherlock Holmes (which everyone agrees is unsettling in how well he pulls it off).

Lance comes in late as fucking  _ Wonder Woman _ \- and  _ no _ , Keith does  _ not _ spit out his morning ristretto at the sight of Lance in an almost-speedo - and Matt (Pidge’s older brother and self-declared “Senior Coffee Genius”) shows up as Winry Rockbell in what Keith swears is the shittiest anime cosplay he’s ever seen in his entire life.

They spend the day handing out candy to kids who come in with their parents, complimenting the kids’ costumes as much as the kids compliment theirs. A couple of toddlers end up crying when Keith comes out of the back after refilling the candy bowl, but he can’t bring himself to resent it when he gets to see Lance make them smile with his Wonder Woman getup, complete with a shield and sword that look just like the real thing, despite being plastic. 

The mother shoots Lance a weird look at first, but Keith can tell that the relief of her kids being satiated is greater than whatever prejudice she might have against men wearing skirts. 

Keith spends the rest of the day as far from small children as he can (so as to avoid making any more of them piss themselves out of fear) and trying his very best not to let his gaze linger on Lance’s lower half for more than the “appropriate” microsecond he deems is good enough to not be noticed. Of course, Allura notices anyways, and then Keith has to put effort into ignoring the  look she sends him from across the cafe every time Lance is within a foot’s distance.

By the time evening comes and the cafe closes for the night, Keith is ready to go home and gorge on the leftover candy he knows Shiro and Allura won’t end up eating.

But, of course, he isn’t going to get to do that. 

Instead, Lance suggests they all hang out and eat the remaining candy as a group, because it’s Halloween, and what else are you supposed to do on Halloween except eat candy with the people you love?

(Keith pointedly doesn’t think too hard about the fact he was included in the list of people Lance apparently loves.)

Allura offers the cafe as their venue for the evening, and everyone settles down in the sitting area, some on the couches and armchairs and others curled up on the plush pink carpet, the still half-full candy bowl placed on the coffee table in the middle, though everyone has handfuls of candy in their laps anyway. 

“So, how about we play a game of sorts? Anyone have a suggestion?” Allura proposes once everyone has made themselves comfortable.

Matt’s hand shoots into the air. “I’ve got one! I made it up in college when Shiro and I wanted to embarrass our dormmates by spilling all their dirty frat boy secrets.”

“Oh God,” Shiro says, dragging a hand over his face and sighing. “I remember that.”

“This sounds wonderful, do explain!” Allura claps her hands excitedly.

“Okay, so the game’s basically this: we go in a circle, counter-clockwise because that seems like it’d be the funniest with the group we have, and everyone has to pick an embarrassing secret they know about someone else in the group and share it out loud. Whoever makes their target react the most intensely, wins.”

“I have a feeling Pidge is going to win this.” Keith says from where he’s leaned against the table, Pidge next to him. “She’s like...the Queen of Blackmail.”

“True, true.” Pidge nods in agreement.

The game begins, and they start with Matt so he can show everyone an example of the game’s mechanics - not that the game’s all that hard to understand. Matt shares a short story about one time in their college years when Shiro came back from a class with Allura and sat in their shared bathroom for at least an hour talking to himself in a high-pitched, shitty British accent pretending to be Allura so he could roleplay her response if he asked her out. Keith makes sure to record the entire thing for blackmail purposes, including Allura’s hysterical laughing fit.

Shiro goes next, and his is also a short story. This one is about the time their college dorm stole a telescope from the lab and snuck out onto the roof to stargaze, and Matt got so drunk that he nearly knocked himself  _ and _ the stolen telescope off said roof. 

Allura shares a story about her first ever Halloween party, in which Coran showed up an entire family of Irish dancers with a near perfect rendition of a traditional Irish Ceili dance. It’s less of an embarrassing story than one that makes everyone confused, but that’s always the case when Coran is involved.

Coran’s story includes a picture of a plump baby Allura covered head to toe in peanut butter that he conveniently “happens” to have on his person, and Allura spends the next two turns with her head in her hands. 

Pidge’s story is about the origin of the Winry cosplay Matt’s wearing - a story Keith  _ really _ wishes he hadn’t heard, and judging by how red everyone else’s faces are by the time Pidge is done, Keith figures they’d all agree.

Keith’s is of one time when Shiro was attempting to flirt with Allura behind the counter of the cafe and slipped on some water, faceplanting onto the floor. It must create a vivid mental image because that particular story throws everyone into a fit of giggles at Shiro’s expense, and Keith can’t bring himself to be intimidated by the angry look his brother sends him when the man’s face is pink with embarrassment. He only blushes darker when Allura kisses him on the cheek.

When it’s Hunk’s turn, the apron-wearing man turns to Lance with a gleam in his eye. 

Lance just smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh c’mon Hunk, you know that every story you’ve got to tell about me is something I’ve already come to terms with. I’m not ashamed of anything!”

“Lance has a crush on Keith and won’t admit it because he still thinks Keith doesn’t like him.”

Lance gapes at that, and Keith can see his face turning beet red as Hunk leans back in his chair, looking somehow both triumphant and slightly guilty. Everyone else is silent. Keith can’t tear his gaze from Lance, and their eyes lock, both mutually frozen. Lance’s eyes are so blue, his cheeks so red, and Hunk’s words slowly start to sink in all the way, and Keith feels like he’s holding his breath.

“Keith likes Lance too and had to have me tell him that because he did not realize what falling in love was like!” 

Keith was holding his breath, and he lets it all out in a shaky cough as he whirls on Allura. 

“You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“No, I promised I would not tell Shiro.”

“Shiro’s right there!”

“Oh, well, sorry?” She says in the most unapologetic way possible.

Keith frowns at her, and when he turns back to Lance, blue eyes meet violet once again, and Keith feels his own face turning just as beet red as Lance’s. They sit there, saying nothing, doing nothing, until Shiro cuts through the awkward silence and suggests they continue the game. It pulls Keith and Lance’s attention away from each other, and they don’t meet eyes again for the rest of the night.

Lance offers up a weak story about how Hunk didn’t learn how to ride a bike until his first year of college (weak in that everyone else already knew the fact, having been friends with Hunk many years longer than Lance has). The game continues, and after another few rounds, Keith and Lance end up dropping from the game without any real notice, the group not mentioning their continued silence and simply passing over them both.

Coran heads home only a half hour or so after closing time at midnight, though everyone else stays behind until the wee hours of the morning. They continue the game until about 2am and then move on to other cliche party games that Keith honestly doesn’t pay any attention to. The sun is rising by the time Allura says they should stop their games, and at that point, only Hunk actually decides to go home and sleep the remaining three hours before the cafe opens again.

Allura and Shiro disappear into Allura’s back office, presumably to sleep, and Matt and Pidge head out, stating they’re only going home to change and that they’ll be back in twenty minutes. Keith walks them out and waves as they drive away. 

When he steps out of the front doorway, he catches sight of Lance behind the counter, the sounds of the machines and the smell of coffee making the whole room seem warmer.  
Keith steps over to the end of the counter, rubbing at his eyes, and pauses when Lance calls his name. Turning to face Lance, Keith watches him slide a cup of coffee down the polished counter and into his hands. It smells like ristretto, and when Keith takes a sip, it tastes perfect. 

“Thanks.” He says, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah, no problem.” Lance says, doing the same. “Hey, uh, I’m gonna go home and change too. But I’ll be back soon.”

Keith nods in acknowledgement and takes another long sip of his coffee, burning his tongue and using the ache as a distraction from Lance brushing past him and out the door. 

He doesn’t look up to watch Lance go, but when he finally sighs and sets his cup down on the counter, he finds that there’s a message scrawled on it in Lance’s favorite blue ink.   


__ ‘Meet me at this address tomorrow night, at 7pm. We both have the night off.  
With love,  
Lance’

  
  
  
  


The address leads to an aquarium, according to Keith’s GPS. He holds his phone tightly in his hand and sets out, following the blue line on his screen until he finds himself standing in front of a beautifully architectured building with ‘The Depths’ posted in glowing blue and white letters above the entrance. Keith can tell the ceiling is glass from the way it shines in the light of the setting sun, and it looks like the entire front entrance is glass, too.

He’s so busy admiring the venue that he almost doesn’t see Lance, but when he does,  _ oh God _ , Keith’s fucking  _ gone _ .

Lance is standing casually off to the side of the entrance, out of the way of anyone else wanting to go inside but not so far out of sight as for Keith to not notice him there. He’s leaning on one leg the way he always does, and Keith catches him switch to the other leg, the way he always does. He’s wearing very tight blue jeans that are folded up to just below his knee, a white shirt with thin grey stripes, and bright blue Converse that oppose Keith’s own red Converse so strikingly it’s almost as if they planned it.

Keith looks down at his baggy black jeans and red hoodie and allows himself a moment to feel self-conscious. Maybe he should’ve put more effort into deciding what to wear. 

Not that he  _ hadn’t _ put any effort into it - in fact, Shiro and Allura had been forced to all but throw him from the house so he wouldn’t be late, he’d spent so much time worrying; and not just about his wardrobe, either. He’d never been on a date before. How the fuck was he supposed to act on a date? 

Wiping his sweaty palms on the back of his jeans, Keith slowly starts toward Lance, who smiles as he approaches. Keith smiles back, already feeling the heat in his face.

“Hey.” Lance says, his voice sounding almost shaky.

“Hey.” Keith parrots, not really knowing what else to say.

“Wanna head inside?” Lance nods toward the aquarium’s entrance. “We only have until nine to see everything, that’s when they close.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

They head into the building together. Lance holds the door open with one hand and bows with an unnecessary dramatic flourish that makes Keith laugh, and as soon as they’ve paid for their entry (well, Lance pays, even though Keith protests) Keith feels a hand slip into his own, fingers squeezing his and causing his body temperature to rise slightly. He doesn’t acknowledge it aside from a not-so-subtle upward glance, and Lance meets his gaze with a smirk. Keith chuckles.

“So,” Lance starts as they make their way toward the first exhibit. “You look amazing.”

Keith tries not to look disbelieving. “You look better.”

“Impossible!” Lance states, swinging their hands between them with that cheesy smirk on his face. “You look handsome without trying. Me?” He gestures dramatically to himself. “I have a morning ritual wherein I sell part of my soul every day so I can look halfway decent. Not what I would call ‘natural beauty’, which you definitely have.”

Keith can feel his ears turning red, but he refuses to back down. “Sure, but who’s to say this is purely natural? You’ve only sold pieces of your soul, whereas I sold all of mine ages ago.” 

Lance gasps and slaps a hand against his chest, eyes wide, and Keith nods sagely. “It’s a simple ritual, Shiro taught me. Want to know the secret?”

“Teach me, oh beautiful, soulless angel!” 

Lance throws his free arm out to the side and enunciates his words in a deeper tone than usual, and Keith snorts a laugh. They have to take a minute to calm down before Keith can continue. 

“Cold water and combs.”

Then Lance is the one snorting a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh boy, that’s one powerful demon.”

“Maybe. Not as generous as yours though. You only sold pieces of your soul and you look like you should be a model for underwear or something. I sold my entire soul and I have to deal with this.” Keith gestures to his hair, as big and poofy as ever. 

“Hey, I love your mullet!”   


“You used to insult it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a changed man.”

Keith turns his gaze to the ground at that. “Me too.” When he looks back up at Lance, he can tell the man caught on to the subliminal message of those two words. After all, Keith treated Lance like shit when they first met - which was only a couple of months ago. 

Yet, here they are now, on a  _ date _ at an aquarium, holding hands and close enough to kiss-

They both seem to realize it at the same time, and jerk back so there’s a good twelve inches in between their faces, cheeks red and eyes averted. They don't let go of each others hand though, staying linked as Lance leads Keith farther into the aquarium.

The date is incredibly peaceful from then on. They don't make as much small talk as Keith had expected, and he prefers it. They go through all the exhibits - colorful tropical fish, streamlined sharks, giant sea bass and bottom dwellers and lion fish and seahorses and an octopus that does tricks for shellfish - and all the while, Lance commentates on the kind of life each creature lives: where it lives, what it eats, what eats  _ it _ , how it courts and how it cares for its young.

Keith doesn't say much, just listens to Lance gush about how beautiful each creature is. He can only imagine that coming to an aquarium like this alone would be boring and bland.

They take a break to get frozen yogurt (which surprises Keith, because what  _ aquarium _ has a frozen yogurt kiosk?!) and just when Keith thinks they've seen everything, Lance leads him to a doorway blocked by a heavy black curtain that reads “Jellyfish Aquarium”. They step inside, and it's like stepping into a world from a fairytale story.

The entire room is illuminated by blue and pink bioluminescent jellyfish, all floating slowly in a tank that must be ten feet tall and at least twenty feet wide. There are no lights in the ceiling or the tank, just the soft glow of the jellyfish as they drift silently around each other, looking like the calmest creatures on the planet.

“My dad brought me to this room when I was little, as a birthday gift. He told me the perfect man is like a jellyfish. He's calm and peaceful, radiating with life and light. But he also stands up for himself and what he loves. If someone comes at him, he fights back.” Lance says, pressing one hand against the glass tank. He's quiet for a long moment, and then he looks back at Keith, a fond look in his eye. “You're the first person I've ever brought here, aside from him.”

Keith takes in the expression on Lance's face, then turns toward a pastel pink jellyfish floating past Lance's hand. “Is that a good thing?” He asks.

“It means you're special to me.”

Keith feels his fingers being squeezed gently, and when he turns to his date once again, he finds Lance only half a foot from his face. Keith does nothing, says nothing as Lance inches closer, until he can feel warm breath on his chin. 

When Lance speaks, it's barely louder than a whisper. “May I kiss you?”

Keith nods, and then there are soft lips pressed against his own, fingers holding his like a lifeline, a hand ghosting over his cheek and stroking his hair. The room was already quiet, but now it's as if the whole world simply fades out, and there's only Lance, with pale shadows playing across his closed eyelids and the baby-smooth skin of his nose sliding against Keith's own. 

They pull apart, exhaling together, and Keith lets himself stare back into Lance's eyes, blue as the ocean whose creatures he loves so dearly. A thumb strokes the back of Keith's hand, another strokes his burning cheek.

He has nothing more to say, so he says nothing, just smiles and leans into Lance's side to watch the jellyfish a while longer, an arm wrapped around his waist and a cheek nestled in his hair.

They stay there in the jellyfish room, close as they can be to each other without infringing on any PDA rules the humble aquarium might have, until an overhead announcement tells them the aquarium is closing. They leave hand in hand, sides pressed together, Keith's head leaning on Lance's shoulder whenever it won't hinder their ability to walk without stepping on each other's feet.

Lance drives Keith home, kisses him again on the stoop of his house, runs a hand through his hair and whispers “good night” into his ear as if a farewell were the most important thing he could ever say.

(Keith hopes farewell isn't the most important thing Lance has to say.)

“We should do this again.”

Lance says it so firmly, so casually; Keith wonders how a simple sentence said in such a way can make his chest tighten, his hands tremble..

Lance is looking at him, waiting for him, yet something in his lopsided smile and the way the light of the streetlamp casts shadows across his face makes Keith feel like he could take a hundred years to respond and Lance would still be there, with all the patience in the world.

He decides not to take a hundred years, because a.) it would be rude to make Lance wait that long, regardless of whether he's willing to or not, and b.) he doesn't think he could go another second denying himself the pleasure of Lance’s promised company.

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know "architectured" isn't a work but fuck if it doesn't describe the situation perfectly.

**Author's Note:**

> ["I Can't Take It In"](https://youtu.be/NVDSiwPbw1w) by Imogen Heap


End file.
